Glaciers, Mountains, Fireweed and My Wife

This vantage point for the Mendenhall Glacier in Juneau is one of the most photographed views in Alaska.  This spot, which I could see from my office when I served in the Coast Guard, offered insight and reassurances as I watched my wife deal with metastatic cancer.

In the foreground is the muskeg meadow; wet, nutrient-rich, verdant, home to vast clumps of fireweed, Alaska’s state flower.  In the background, framed by the glacier, are the Mendenhall Towers; mountain peaks rising 1.3 miles straight up from near sea level.  These are young mountains, exposed as the vast icefield encasing them began to recede in the 1700’s.  First scraped clean by the ice field and continuously swept clean by snow, ice and wind, these peaks have little of the life of the fireweed meadow they preside over.

So different – the fireweed meadow and the rock pinnacles – yet no one would argue successfully that the meadow is more beautiful than the peaks, or vice versa.

The meadow produces; the peaks stand in testimony.  The fireweed meadow shows Alaska’s nurturing hand; the peaks show signs of Alaska’s harshest nature: hurricane force winds, snow and ice.

Like fireweed, many of us bloom because we happened to take root in the most accommodating and nurturing of soils.  Like the Mendenhall Towers, some of us are scraped clean by the harshness of life, whether it be our environment, disease, or tragedy.

Turning the comparison of the meadow and the peaks slightly in another direction, I can write that nearly all of us start in the bloom of youth and over time evolve to a form more pronounced, bearing the marks of the ice and wind of this world, still beautiful as God’s image bearers, but deeper, more complex, weathered and polished.

I watched Dona deal with a serious cancer since early 2014.  Most cancer sufferers are described as ‘fighting cancer’ or ‘enduring a long struggle with cancer.’  I appreciate the spirit and determination those descriptions signal.  But Dona did not fight her cancer, she let her oncologist do that.  Dona seemed to maneuver her cancer, somehow positioning the disease at a place where she could learn, grow, even flourish.  With each setback – a disappointing scan or lab report, a quality-of-life diminishing side-effect – I saw Dona maneuvering, adjusting, and finding a way to grow a little higher, like the Mendenhall Towers of Juneau; perhaps scraped and scoured a bit, but nonetheless ultimately towering over her disease.   

Where does this come from? 

As much as I would like to give her full credit I cannot.  I was with Dona for 43 years.  This is a new spirit.  She has always had many attractive traits: thoughtful, kind, empathic but, also, a relentless planner, troubleshooter; dedicated to seeing peril around the corner and making big plans to counter the threat.  Once she stored $2000 in a box after reading a report that cyber-terrorists could easily shutdown the electric power grid, making banks and ATM’s inoperable.  But once she faced her worst and most real crisis, she became less anxious, more relaxed, less out to prove something to herself.  When scan reports were not good, Dona took the news with courage, dignity, grace, humility; always encouraging and thanking her health care providers.

And she liked her ‘new metastatic self’.  She wrote about it on more than one occasion. 

I would not call this new outlook serenity.  A more serene person would have done less on-line shopping.  It was not stoicism either.  We were still quite anxious during each visit to the hospital.  As we waited for our oncologist to enter the treatment room, I would read her dumb jokes from the internet as a disruption. 

I am still struggling to define and understand the change.

Recently, I have described this change as Dona’s confidence in God’s big plans for her future.  Fear revolves around our thoughts about the unknown future and our imagining the worst of that which is unknown.  But she was convinced that she had a future, and it was a good one.  We prayed for a miracle of healing, for longevity.  That is not granted, but no matter, we still have a future, and it is glorious.

Tim Keller writes, “We are future-oriented beings, and so we must understand ourselves as being in a story that leads somewhere.  We cannot live without at least an implicit set of beliefs that our lives are building toward some end, some hope, to which our actions are contributing. We must imagine some end to life that transcends.”[1]

But that is not the whole story.  Hope and faith are essential, but we need some external help.  If it depends only on our personal resolve or insight we are back where we started – some of us succeed through a gift of temperament or fortitude, some not.

And we boast in the hope of the glory of God.  Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 5:2b-5; 8:35, 37-39

It can only be the Spirit of God that vitalizes life, communicates God’s truth, and reassures of his eternal plan for us through the grace of Christ. 

What was great about this external strength was that when hardship came, I did not worry that Dona would not be able to endure it because it did not depend solely on her. I trust I will be able to draw on that same strength.

I so deeply miss her.

Dave Eley


[1] “Making Sense of God: An Invitation to the Skeptical” by Timothy Keller.

Cancer and Character Development

Suffering has allowed me to empathize with the suffering of others more deeply.  This new level of compassion is both heart-breaking and life-giving in equal measure.  I am grateful.

I occasionally get questions that at first glance may seem impertinent or insensitive when posed to a person with Stage 4 cancer.  But I am not startled or offended.  Afterall, I write unreservedly in my blog about my mortality, and, most gratifyingly, my friends ask questions out of genuine concern and a desire to understand more fully what I am going through.

Recently, a close friend asked:

“Dona, you ever wish that you had died suddenly from an accident or heart attack instead of going through these years of suffering, not knowing when the medical team has no more resources to keep you alive?”

An insightful question I have been pondering ever since. 

There was a time when I would have said absolutely, I would rather die suddenly than go through cancer treatments. After all, what other illness fills us with dread as we wonder about lumps, difficulty swallowing, or unrelenting back pain?

Another friend, a physician, told me about a patient that showed up at his medical practice with grave concerns about a skin condition. The doctor’s diagnosis was chronic, severe psoriasis. He told his patient the condition would cause pain, discomfort, interfere with sleep, and make it difficult to concentrate. There would be no cure. The patient relied, “Thank God it’s not cancer!”

We do not walk around fearing heart attacks, gallbladder attacks, car accidents, lupus, or sundry illnesses that can be very devastating and even fatal. It is cancer that fills us with fear. Within literature or human discourse there is no other disease used as a personifier of something malignant, evil, or spreading. (“Bitterness grew like a cancer until it consumed her.” “His hunger for power was a cancer that could not be stopped until he destroyed everyone in his way.”) We use the word cancer because it is a word loaded with all kinds of imagined suffering and dread of when and how it will take our lives. And unlike the animal kingdom we humans have existential angst and future awareness, realizing we are mortal and will leave behind loved ones, future dreams and plans and meaningful work.

Getting back to my friend’s question……

Early on when I discovered I had metastatic breast cancer I wrote a blog post titled “I like the new metastatic me.” It had nothing to do with being masochistic or pathological.  It had all to do with welcoming the change of perspective on what was, and what was not, important in life.  Consequently, I found a greater peace of mind because I had less things that I was holding onto and less to become anxious about. The new metastatic me simplified life and found me focusing on joy and gratefulness.

Although my cancer had progressed from Stage 3 to Stage 4, I was happy to find that my character development had moved from stage 1 to stage 2.  Well, maybe Stage 0.5 to Stage 1.

That was then, this is now.  In the last four years there certainly has been more suffering than I would have anticipated when I was first diagnosed with metastatic cancer.  But I can say with confidence that after 4-5 years of living with this awful disease that I’m thankful I was not taken suddenly.

I am more others-centered now than 4 years ago. My character development has moved from stage 2 to stage 3. Well, maybe 1 to 2. You get my intent. I am trying to walk the line between braggadocios and false humility. The point is that I have more empathy and heart sickness when I hear of others suffering, whether from the terror-stricken children of Ukraine, the starving children of Somalia, or the grieving parent of a loss child or husband. I used to avoid reading BBC international news (I have an app). Too much tragedy. Now, I read and pray because it disrupts my own suffering and allows, what Mother Theresa called, “my heart to be broken with what breaks the heart of Christ.”

And this suffering somehow reminds me of the Great Hope.

“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

Romans 5:3-4

Before unpacking this, I must reiterate that the grace of God has been apparent every step away.  He deserves the credit and glory.   

Suffering can breed empathy:

When people are faced with a terrible diagnosis there is a choice that must be made. Will the rest of life be driven by bitterness and anger; resenting the unfairness? As I have heard on more than one occasion, “I took good care of myself: ate healthy, exercised frequently, managed stress, and even served God so how did this happen to me?”

As I noted above, there is an aspect of my chronic suffering that has bred empathy and compassion for those who suffer, whether from cancer, other ailments, heartbreaks, betrayals, extreme losses.  My prayer life has been richer and more spontaneous as I read the news or talk with people who are hurting. And for those times I forget I have cancer as I focus on them.

I do not know why suffering has produced empathy, but I have a couple of theories.

The God of the cross

We have a God that suffers with us.  The late John Stott, theologian and pastor of All Souls Church in London often said he could not worship a God who had not experienced extreme suffering.

“The fact of suffering undoubtedly constitutes the single greatest challenge to the Christian faith and has been in every generation. Its distribution and degree appear to be entirely random and, therefore, unfair. Sensitive spirits ask if it can possibly be reconciled with God’s justice and love.”

I could never myself believe in God if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the One Nietzsche ridiculed as ‘God on the cross’. In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?

John Stott, The Cross of Christ, pp. 335-336

In summary, my metastatic cancer first gave me a new perspective on what, and what was not, important in life.  Consequently, I found a greater peace of mind because I had less things that I was holding onto and less to become anxious about. The new metastatic me simplified life and found me focusing on joy and gratefulness.

Second, suffering has allowed me to empathize with the suffering of others more deeply.  This new level of compassion is both heart-breaking and life-giving in equal measure.  I am grateful.

My character development has moved from Stage 1 to Stage 3!  Will I ever get to Stage 4?  Not in this earthly tent!

And this brings me, finally, to the point of all this.  The end result of suffering is not character development but hope.  (Romans 5:3-4)  Hope in what?  Eternal life and that time when Christ will “make all sad things untrue.”1  A cold, pitiless universe, full of random disease and tragedy, without God provides little or no incentive to develop character or hope. 

If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.

1 Corinthians 15:19

Yes, oh yes, I am thankful, suffering or no suffering, for every moment the Lord had graced me with!

1Originally spoken by Sam to Gandalf in J.R.R. Tolkien’s, The Return of the King.  Often quoted by Tim Keller and NT Wright in their reflections on the resurrection.

I have envy and I’m learning how to fight it

A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.

– Proverbs 14:30

Envy is poison to our souls, and we will be betrayed and even destroyed by it if it gains solid purchase in our character. The fall out of unbridled and unrepentant envy includes relationship difficulties, missing out on joy and peace, cynicism and lack of trust towards neighbors, friends, and family.  Worst of all, envy is incompatible with love.  If we are carried along by envy, we will end up feeling alone without God’s loving presence and the presence of others. We will be miserable.

Envy is a natural human behavior

We are inclined to envy. We want what certain others have.  Seeing the good things that others have and aspiring to reach their level of achievement is okay.  This is simply observing and following healthy role-models.  But healthy aspiration is derailed when:

  • We are unwilling to submit to what is needed to achieve a good thing, or
  • We feel it is not FAIR that others have what we want, or
  • We do not want others to have what we want and do not have, or
  • We are tempted to think that God does not love us like he does others.

“It’s not fair!” How often have we heard children cry and complain about what seems to them is a fairness issue among their siblings when things are not going their way. And if we are honest with ourselves, we can admit to times of struggling with fairness and envy. Perhaps your friend’s children are excelling academically, athletically, or whatever, you are hoping this would be your own children’s life trajectory, but it is not happening. Your understandable concern begins to needle you as you COMPARE your children to others and, this is the most vexing part, you begin to hope the other children will fail!   

My mother-in-law used to tell me, “Never brag about your children.  You will be placing them on a pedestal that other mothers will want to push over.”

Lord have mercy.

Envy and jealousy are not the same

Though the words, envy and jealousy, are used interchangeably, there is a difference.

Jealousy is an emotional response to being afraid of losing someone or something we consider ours. It is typically accompanied by feelings of exclusion and abandonment. When the Bible describes God as a jealous god, it means God does not want to share the affections of his people with idols of wealth, power, or false gods.

Envy is an emotional response to wanting something that someone else has. It is a painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another (Webster).  Envy quickly devolves to coveting (10th Commandment) when we want to rob the other of what they have..

Lord have mercy on us.

Envy is diabolical

It is listed as a vice that God condemns. It appears in narratives throughout the Bible.  Satan envied God and enticed Eve into sin.  Cain envied his brother and murdered is brother Abel.  Envious magicians devised a plot to have Daniel thrown into a den of lions.  Religious leaders who envied the popular appeal of Jesus orchestrated his crucifixion.

Envy blooms when we compare ourselves to others like us

We do not envy billionaires and celebrities.  We may admire or ridicule them.  We may daydream about what it would be like to have their beauty, wealth or status; But we do not judge ourselves against them. 

Nor do we envy the materially poor. 

We become discontented when we COMPARE ourselves with friends, families, and neighbors of similar status.

I once counseled a woman in the Middle East who was mistreating her son especially around homework time. Her initial complaint was around her son’s grades. She wanted advice on how to motivate him to excel. But a subsequent session revealed that it was envy of her sister whose children were excelling that was the root cause of her abuse towards her son and the root cause of his lying about his homework. No wonder he was anxious around his mother and wanted to avoid the predictable yelling and slapping.

I have metastatic breast cancer. I have had family members and friends who had breast cancer detected at an early stage and consequently treatment did what it was supposed to do: cure them of this dreaded disease. Have I been tempted to complain that it is not fair that I wasn’t cured? You betcha! I shudder to think that if I allowed this brooding to bloom, I could actually reach a point where I could wish we were all struggling against metastatic cancer. 

Lord have mercy.

Practical steps to fight the green-eyed monster

To beat back destructive envy or to keep the seed from germinating, try these strategies.

Use thought experiments help manage envy

A thought experiment is a hypothesis, story or procedure that is invented to examine its consequences.

Einstein devised his theory of special relativity (time slows down for objects traveling fast) through a thought experiment decades before it could be proved through measurement.  

My personal thought experiments sometimes help me combat my vices.  I imagine that even with metastatic breast cancer I feel well enough to visit a refugee camp. I meet people who have lost loved ones and endured unimaginable terror and grief and continue to fear for themselves and their families. I listen to their tragic circumstances and then I speak:

“Hey guys, what about me? I have metastatic cancer and you don’t. That is not fair!”

Sounds ridiculous, right?

But this ridiculous thought experiment helps me manage feelings of envy and unfairness when I start comparing myself to people like me socially, whose breast cancer was caught early, allowing treatments to cure them.

Speak blessings and compliments to others

Since my late 30’s I realized that envy could be a spiritual downfall for me, so I consciously decided to speak blessings to the person I was tempted to envy. Example: I am in somebody’s lovely home which has all the features I would want in a home including its placement in a beautiful environment. Instead of entertaining covetous or envious thoughts I speak to the fortunate person of how beautiful their home is and how blessed they are. Yes, I even gush in relation to the strength of the power of envy in a particular situation.  And, I complement people about their children, grandchildren, ministries, careers, physical appearance, and also about their good health outcomes that I could hope were mine.

Bottom line: It works!  (Most of the time.)

Count blessings

Love and envy cannot co-exist.  The antidote to envy is love expressed in gratitude to what God has blessed us with and a love for others, rejoicing in God’s blessings towards them; realizing that Gods gifts are inexhaustible.

I keep a running list of God’s blessings.  I recite them when I’m not feeling so blessed.

Read and study scripture

The Scriptures are inspired by God and are useful to teach us what is true and make us realize what is wrong in our lives.

– 2 Timothy 3:16

None of us like to be judged but if we are overly committed to this position, we will not read the scriptures with conviction.  And, there is always grace when judgment does its convicting work in us of exposing wrong-doing or wrong-thinking.  Thank God for grace!

Comparing ourselves to others erodes healthy self-esteem. When we study the scripture our perception of reality is expanded.  We are loved by God and called to fill a particular purpose in this life.  When we realize this, we stand at the cusp of transcendent self-esteem with has more power and encouragement than we could ever get from worldly gains. 

Take the long, eternal view

It is not only gratitude to God that cuts into envy. Ultimately, having the long eternal view of our lives reassures that God’s blessings will be ours forever no matter what happens in this life. Believing and anticipating an afterlife with Christ is a deterrent to envious feelings. When we realize that we do not have to scratch and claw our way to the desired life we want; when we realize this life is not all there is; when we realize that the point of our lives is to serve God and others; then we hold the weapon against vices like envy that threaten to consume us with resentment, hatred, and bitterness.

I have not mastered these strategies, but over years I have gotten better at recognizing envy and parrying envy’s thrusts to my soul.  Many times, maybe even most of the time, I feel authentic happiness for others’ good fortune AND I am more aware of Gods blessings and love for me.

Not a bad trade off…….even with metastatic cancer.

How Fine-Tuning of the Universe Helps Me Cope with Cancer

In a previous post I described how a diagnosis of metastatic cancer inexplicitly sparked curiosity, wonder and questions about the cosmos. I started listening to podcasts and reading interviews with prominent scientists describing the physics of the universe and the surprises from new discoveries about how the cosmos works.

The shock and awe of the marvels of the universe took the shock out of cancer. 

I am not alone in my interest.  Conferences, books, and on-line debates indicate a surge of fascination with cosmology – particularly new observations, theories, and philosophies – among average intellect people like me as well as the scientific heavyweights. And popular culture is on to the cosmos. Sci-fi movies and books paint stories of quantum field irregularities creating portals and wormholes through time or into multiple universes filled with doppelgängers and other mind-bending craziness.

One dominate serious discussion across cosmology, physics and theology over the last 20 years is the fine-tuning of the universe.  In the late 20th century scientists started to describe how the universe is extremely sensitive to changes in physical constants.  If one of the constants is changed even by a tiny bit, the world will look vastly different – it will generally have no suns, no chemistry, and – therefore – no life. This is known as “fine tuning.”  It is as if there are a large number of dials that have to be tuned to within extremely narrow limits for life to be possible in our universe.

If you are looking for examples of esoterica, you have found them in these ‘dials’ – physical constants.  Allow me to state two of many which, because they are almost incomprehensible to me, I copied nearly verbatim:

  • Omega (Ω), commonly known as the density parameter, is the relative importance of gravity and expansion energy in the universe. It is the ratio of the mass density of the universe to the “critical density” and is approximately 1. If gravity were too strong compared with dark energy and the initial metric expansion, the universe would have collapsed before life could have evolved. If gravity were too weak, no stars would have formed.
  • Lambda (Λ), commonly known as the cosmological constant, describes the ratio of the density of dark energy to the critical energy density of the universe. Λ is on the order of 10−122.[19] This is so small that it has no significant effect on cosmic structures that are smaller than a billion light-years across. A slightly larger value of the cosmological constant would have caused space to expand rapidly enough that stars and other astronomical structures would not be able to form.

And the list of physical constants that must be fine-tuned goes on and on.  From constants, like above, required for stars to exist to those tuned for intelligent life.  I do not understand any of these ‘dials’ except that it is extremely unlikely that all of them are tuned precisely to create the conditions for intelligent life.  Interestingly, that is a point on which most secular scientists, theologians and philosophers agree.  Of course, their explanations differ.  Currently, the four main theories are:

  1. Fine-tuning is an illusion:  Once we discover more fundamental physics an explanation will present itself.
  2. Multiverses:  Our universe is just one of many, maybe billions.  If each have different physical constants, we should not be surprised to find our universe hospitable to intelligent life.  (This is also a theory for creation.  If the universe just popped into being – something out of nothing – then other universes have an equal chance of appearing.)
  3. Alien simulation (my personal favorite):   Aliens developed a simulation fine-tuned for us to exist.  Earth and all that effects earth is a laboratory and we are the rats within it.
  4. And, of course, God created the universe and fine-tuned it for intelligent life.

It is odd that there are brilliant physicists who would rather think up farfetched theories to explain fine-tuning rather than be in awe of the FINE-TUNER that created the universe’s inherent physics that allow us to exist.  Occam’s razor indicates that the simplest explanation, the answer that requires the fewest assumptions, is preferable.  Which theory requires the fewest assumptions for fine-tuning?  Billions of other universes coexisting with us?  Alien simulation?  Or, a creator-God?  Theologians and some astrophysicists and cosmologists have no problem with divine fine-tuning and in fact are delighted by its implications. There is a God.

As a serious illness looms over my life, as metastatic cancers find a way to mutate and work around tumor-killing drugs, I am tempted to despair. Cancer acts and feels frighteningly powerful and almost god-like with attributes of omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotence. At times like this I need something MORE powerful that happens to be benevolent, merciful, transcendent, and eminent. Thinking of bigger realities works to belittle the cancer bully and grow the great hope that the Fine-Tuner of the universe has no rivals, not even the great fearsome cancers of this world. There is hope and reassurance that the great Fine-Tuner of the cosmos loves me and purposes me to further his love in this world and the next. Cancer is no rival to this fact alone! Hallelujah.

Sleep to Die For

Consistent, restorative sleep has eluded me for over 20 years.  Therefore, an image so often talked about in the New Testament – falling asleep in Christ – has come as an unexpected comfort.

“Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace.”

Victor Hugo

“That we are not much sicker and much madder than we are is due exclusively to that most blessed and blessing of all-natural graces, sleep.”

Aldous Huxley

grandma driving“I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandma.

Not yelling and screaming, like the people in her car.”

Anonymous

 

I love to sleep but for the last 20 years consistent, sound sleep has remained tantalizingly out of reach. So desperate for sleep at times I have found myself looking on with envy at homeless folks asleep on benches. When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2014, I immediately discussed sleep with my oncologist.  I assumed that cancer worries along with cancer treatment would be the end of sleep for good.

Sleeplessness in any degree is one of humanity’s great annoyances. Internet searches (not good sleep hygiene to do at night) are endless in describing and suggesting ways to recover our bodies’ routine and therapeutic need for the sandman’s nightly visits. Why he refuses to come and satisfy some of us is anybody’s guess. But for sure we cannot do well emotionally or physically without sleep.  Twenty years of insomnia has left me wanting to strangle the sandman.  Going for stretches without sustaining sleep has at times been as emotionally painful as my struggle with metastatic cancer.

Worrying about endings

A few people with metastatic cancer might not entertain thoughts about how dying might go for them.  I am not one of them.  Like the confession of the late Billy Graham, I too am not afraid to die as I have confidence in Christ receiving me, but I do worry sometimes about how I may die. I am like most people who would vote to die unsuspectingly at an incredibly old age at the end of a productive, meaningful life while SLEEPING!

To Fall Asleep in Christ

I recently landed on a book, Dying Well, by John Wyatt.  The author, a British medical consultant and devout Christian, has witnessed many people in the last stage of their lives and offers insightful, encouraging, and very practical suggestions for believers facing death from illness or old age. This book is for anybody who is eventually going to die. Yes, we all should push the pause button of our busy lives to think how we would like our endings to go before the end is close.

Wyatt’s chapter describing what it means to “fall to sleep in Christ” was particularly comforting.  To “fall asleep in Christ” is the term used in the epistles for the believers’ death.  Jesus in the gospels and the apostle Paul in his letters describe the death of a believer as residing in a state of sleep awaiting their new eternal life. The early Christians understood something about this image of death. It is one of the reasons they had the courage and hope to withstand all manners of persecution and death.  At death, the believer is, as in sleep, unconscious and unresponsive but none the less a person fully alive, being held safely by the love and power of Christ.

I have known the biblical expression for believers’ death for decades but never has the term meant so much to me as it does now; nor has it provided such hope and reassurance as it does now.  Falling asleep in Christ to be woken up to the most glorious reality of all is my great hope and desire.   I love sleep, I long for it and when I awake having had a good night of sleeping, I am exhilarated.  So now as the pesky death and dying thoughts resurface so does the gentleness of the sleep metaphor. Is this pie in the sky thinking to make the reality of dying easier to swallow?  No and yes!   No, it is not the pie in the sky.  The truths of scripture and God’s love for me did not originate with me and will not end with me.  And yes, life after death has been the great Christian hope for people from all over the world for centuries.  As Paul said, “if only in this life we have hope in Christ we of all people are to be most pitied.”   (I Cor 15:19) According to John Wyatt, we can deduct from 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 that “Jesus experienced the full reality of death so that we might fall asleep,” never having to know abandonment from God’s loving presence. Hallelujah!  My imagination has taken a turn from the dreaded to the blessed! Falling asleep in Christ means resting in peace to be woken up by the lover of our souls at the culmination of history.

“Lucy woke out of the deepest sleep you can imagine, with the feeling that the voice she liked best in the world had been calling her name.”

Chronicles of Narnia , C.S. Lewis

DEATH VERSES TO FALL ASLEEP BY:

MATTHEW 9:24

JOHN 11:11

ACTS 7:59-60

JOHN 11:25-26

I THESSALONIANS 4:13-14

ISAIAH 26:19

PSALM 17:15

PSALM 16:9-11

PSALM 139:17-18

REVELATION 22: 3-4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stories that have nothing to do with cancer

Cancer metastasis tempts me to see all of life and relationships pivoting around the cancer diagnosis. If I’m not careful cancer becomes the only lens from which life is observed. It’s clearly understandable. Cancer demands attention. But as it turns out there is so much to life that cuts into the self-absorbed cancer life.

Story telling

I love stories; especially the real-life ones.
I love telling stories and not just stories about me and mine.
I love other people’s stories and draw awe, inspiration, humor, human pathos, delight and enjoyment from them as if they were mine.
I just don’t enjoy stories; I absolutely need them to keep me grounded and connected to people and to God.
Heroism, desperate need met by extraordinary compassion, grit and human feats of endurance, discovery, invention, sacrifice, visions, dreams, revelations and miracles are stories that I will tell if I have been privileged to know of them. I tell many, many, many stories.

A story of dear friends
india to usaAudra and Jeremy are adopting a Down syndrome 19-month-old – nicknamed Hank – who is in an orphanage in India. They have never adopted or fostered. Audra has never been in a foreign country other than Canada (that doesn’t count), but she could not be more fearless, committed and excited. Passionate love has taken hold of her. Before she was dissuaded by the adoption agency Audra was determined to foster Hank in India for 3 to 4 months until the last court hearing and all documents were in place for her to bring him home. Audra and Jeremy were undaunted by obstacles; even the challenges of leaving her other three children in the care of Jeremy, the Dad. This couple was propelled by extraordinary and extravagant love. They only knew love’s longing to take Hank out of the orphanage, care for him, and ultimately bring him home to be part of his new family and church community; each which await his arrival with joy and anticipation.

The Bad Math of Jesus

God as shepherd and us as his flock is a common motif in the Bible for describing God’s love and devotion for us.

This parable is one of my favorites for describing the extravagant love of God towards his children.

Matthew 18:12-14

Jesus said, “What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them Jesus_the_Shepherd004wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.

So, what is the big idea in this story? The extravagant love of Christ can look foolish, indulgent, and possibly even irresponsible at times.

Phillip Yancey has called this the ‘atrocious math’ of Jesus.

The shepherd leaves the 99 on a hill, not in a sheep pen or in the care of another shepherd. No! He leaves them on a hill, vulnerable and unprotected so that he can seek after the one sheep that has wandered away.

Does the shepherd not care about the 99 because his favorite sheep, Fluffy, is the one who wandered off? Of course not. There are no favorite sheep in this story. There’s no Fluffy or Nemo or Benji because this is not a story about animals. No one sheep is the hero in this story. The only hero is the shepherd who wants his sheep, all his sheep, home with him. And he will put himself and the other obedient 99 at risk in order to go after one foolish and wayward sheep to bring her home. The extravagant, sacrificial love of God is the big story here.

Audra and Jeremy’s love for a disabled child is today’s big story for me. But this love is extravagant and some including myself had wondered whether it is too extravagant. Extravagant, sacrificial love motivated by Jesus’s spirit and example is only thing that can explain it. And Audra and Jeremy would agree. They see it as a calling given by God of which they are delighted to follow for the rest of their lives.

Be inspired but more importantly respond to the calling of God to bring you home. And when you do don’t forget to be grateful and thank Him that his heart is bigger than his numerical calculations.

Name Your Tumor

Being known by name is significant and a comfort in the midst of difficulty.

Naming tumors is a real thing. And I don’t mean naming the specific type of cancer. No, these are pet names. Arnold, Terminator 1, Terminator 2, and disliked politicians are common tags assigned by cancer patients. Most people report that naming their tumor is an empowering exercise allowing them to wrestle back a little control from a bully.

Unfortunately for me, I would need a baby naming book in order to find names for all the little tumors that are floating around. Fortunately, I’m not attracted to the name-your-tumor game but I’m not judging those who are. Whatever helps cancer patients not feel so helpless is probably a good thing.

But I’m intrigued by the need to name a thing or person.  Assigning names, being referred to by names, labeling objects by names, Hello_my_name_is_sticker.svgand finding meaning in names fosters connection and intimacy to each other, our environment, and, apparently, our diseases. The importance of naming is found in both Testaments. Being named, having a name carries spiritual significance. God revealed his name to Moses.  Jesus was named Immanuel, ‘God with us.”  Both Peter and Paul were renamed by Jesus.

When I was first married, I complained to my husband that I wanted to hear my name spoken by him more often. Hearing my name by my beloved made me feel special to him and more connected. It capped off the special relationship we shared. No doubt he was initially perplexed by this marital complaint but happy to accommodate.

The following verses in the gospel of John at Christ’s resurrection are exceedingly meaningful and tender to me (emphasis mine):

John 20:15-16
He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means ‘Teacher’).

Imagine her relief, her love, her comfort to hear her name spoken by the Lord at such a time.  It’s an image that carries me through this harrowing medical ordeal. Imagining the Lord of the universe saying,

Dona, I’m here with you.”
Dona, I’ve got this, don’t be afraid.”
Dona, you will be with me forever.”

I don’t feel a need to name a tumor or tumors to feel more empowered or in control. He knows and calls me by my name. That is enough. That is everything.

Intimate News

I made an unusual request of my oncology team. I told them that when I returned the following week to hear the results of the radiologist report and the status of cancer progression, I wanted them to tell David first. I would be in the waiting room to hear from him. He Patient to doctorwould sit with me and go over the results.  We might pray together, then we would go the clinic room together to have the results further explained by the team and have our questions answered.

Weird, cowardly, childish, weak, faithless, avoidant, dramatic, insensitive to my husband by putting him in this position? All those descriptors passed through my mind as the day approached. On the actual day, I decided to forget the elaborate scheme and face up to the news without preamble. But my husband gave me a word picture that took away the shame.

“Dona, you are going to have to eat the whole sandwich (the radiologist’s report) at some point but how you want it presented – open-faced, garnished, toasted – is completely up to you. You’re the one going through this. Do it the way that makes it most tolerable.”

And my team completely understood, or at least acted like they did.  As my lead doctor said,

“Dona is the one with cancer, not me.  We do it her way.”

Intimacy

So, what was going on, aside from fear? It is intimacy and trust – intimate knowledge coming through my most trusted person. I wanted news from the person whose life would be most affected by this personal and significant information and from the person who knows me better and loves me more than any other.

An example from a long-ago happy event:
Who was the first person I told when i discovered I was pregnant? Life changing information that only made sense to share with the person most invested in our lives together. And whose lives would change dramatically as a result? Mine and his.
Again, intimate personal information shared within the most intimate of relationships. It’s really (in my mind) not so different from news about a disease notorious for causing pain, disability and death. I wanted to hear it from my husband no matter what it was.
But fortunately, intimacy doesn’t stop there.

Intimacy with God

David’s intimate relationship with God was ultimately what I was counting on in anticipation of hearing news related to my survival. If the scan and test results were disappointing, then I trusted David to tell me the facts along with the crucial caveats and realistic encouragements that would calm my fears and reorient me once again to the hope I profess in Jesus in all and every circumstance of life. I imagined praying together in those moments – intimacy with God would always and forever be at the heart of my life’s purpose and hope, even in life’s major disappointments.

The obvious

What if there was no husband or one that was willing to participate in my plan? Or what if there wasn’t a substitute like a trusted pastor or friend who could lead me to “the shepherd of my soul”?  Would I have fallen apart? Fallen into a pit of despair of which I couldn’t climb out?

I don’t imagine so. And here’s why:  Betsy Ten Boom who died at Ravensbrück for her participation in hiding Dutch Jews during WW2 said,

“There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.”

I cling to that with gratitude.

Thankful Postscript
My test results were encouraging: “Skeletal cancer stable, metastatic liver disease showed marked improvement.”

Of course, this begs the question, would I write this same post if the news was not good? I hope so, I pray so. Again,

“There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.”


 





 

 

Guest Post: I Gave Her Bad Advice

The following post is from my husband, David.

Can a positive attitude affect breast cancer survival? No. It can even hurt.

Since we learned that Dona’s cancer had returned and spread, I have encouraged her to stay positive, think positive, be optimistic. I told her studies have shown that a positive attitude is linked to survival. img_3576

As it turns out, I was wrong. I was giving her bad advice; advice that was not just unhelpful but potentially harmful.

A 9-year study of nearly 1100 cancer patients by the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine found no relationship between positive outlook and cancer progression and death. At least two additional well designed and implemented studies support these findings. Based on what researchers know now about how cancer starts and grows, there’s no reason to believe that negative emotions can cause cancer or help it grow.

1561447518-optimism-nzc83trq1-87901-500-425

Not always the best plan

And, as I learned, encouraging a cancer sufferer to stay positive can be anti-therapeutic. It can hurt, particularly when the ‘encourager’ links positive outlook to longevity, like I did.  I placed an additional burden on Dona, who has enough on her plate managing fear, side-effects, and me. Although she never said so, I was likely creating guilt and discouragement during the times she was unable to muster up a positive attitude.

But the impulse is natural. We want to believe that we have the will-power to control the outcomes of a serious illnesses.

Moreover, amongst Christians, we link healing to faith. On the extreme end, the ‘health-and-wealth gospel’ purveyors contend that healing can only come from the certainty of our belief in God’s promise of physical well-being. Without knowing, I may have been playing in to this.

Do I believe that God can heal Dona miraculously? Yes, I’m praying He will. Do I believe He must heal if she or I have unwavering faith? I can’t convince myself that is true. God can heal anyone, anytime, with or without my faith. Linking the certainty of my faith directly and solely to healing places too much burden and power on me. But at the same time, I’m reminded that Jesus told us to believe that we will receive whatever we ask for in prayer (Mark 11:22-24; Matthew 21:19-22). I’m asking Jesus to take my mustard seed of faith and use it however He wants. (Matthew 17:20) If this sounds like I’m waffling, I am. Looking at my own weakness, I take comfort in the father who asked Jesus to heal his child who was afflicted with terrible seizures. He told Jesus, “Lord, I believe, help me in my unbelief.” (Mark 9:21-29)

And then, almost a companion piece to the name-it-and-claim-it Christians is the typical American temperament which ignores mortality and promotes self-determination.

“Fix it, avoid it, or fight it. It is entirely within your control. You can prevail!”
“Cancer won’t win. Just believe you are going to beat it! Be a fighter!”

Dona hates the term, ‘she was a fighter’. She asks, “What’s the corollary for someone who dies of cancer? She was a loser?”

The way forward

Dona is not at death’s door. She has a cancer that is not curable, but it is treatable. She is getting the best treatments for the best possible outcome.

But delusional optimism, that positive thinking will control cancer, is, well,  delusional. Living with hope, however, is essential.  Author and pastor, Tim Keller says,

“The way you live now is completely controlled by what you believe about your future.”

Our pastor, Steve Schenk, told us in a recent sermon:

“Despair is believing there is no way forward. Hope, for the sufferer, is believing there is a path forward.”

How does Dona see a way forward in hope with metastatic cancer? She combines deep theology with practical behavior. To date, I have watched her employ over a dozen different techniques in constructing a path ahead. I would like to list them, but Dona nixed that. She reasons that, one, it would make this post over 2000 words and, two, it places undo emphasis on her behavior.  Fair enough.

But I will write that her efforts, habits, and musings promote hope and joy. And experiencing joy where we can find it has been one of our objectives since we started this journey.  Joy, as we Christians know it, has less to do with our circumstances and more to do with a settled assurance that God knows our condition and that nothing: cancer, grief or even death itself, can separate us from his love. (Romans 8:35-39)

So, how can I help Dona? I asked her and she told me,

“Pray for me, read scripture to me, point me to the reason for my existence, remind me that this reality is not the only reality, and have fun with me. And do these again and again and again and again.”